White Egret, Green Tea

By Wednesday, we’d accomplished all we were going to in Sasebo. The rest is up to us as individuals to get back there and do a little more snooping. As of right now, I’m planning on going back in late March during an interim period. I want to go down to the 99 Islands and check out what I can of the Army Base there and do basically the same thing (get rejected at the gate and spend a couple days rooting through museums and libraries).

So off we went back north…west…Japan’s on a funny angle, so my United States oriented brain can’t get used to the idea of things not being directly on a North-South-East-West gridwork. Regardless, we were going back to Kyoto, but had to make a stop first.

We weren’t prepared for what we found in Himeji. Not just a beautiful and historic piece of architecture (though that really doesn’t do “White Egret Castle” justice. Just look at that name: “White Egret Castle.” Damn.) but something much more special. But I’ll get to that in a minute.

We arrived in Himeji on a humid Wednesday late morning. We were still playing poker with the weather, reading the signs and holding our breath. It was starting to rain and look sort of dour as we left Sasebo, but every time we emerged from another tunnel in another town, the weather was different. Cloudy here, sunshine there, hell frozen over, etc.

Himeji, at least, was keeping it together and by the time we left the station and found some lockers to stow all our gear, the skies had cleared and we had a nice scorching sunny morning to work with.

Himeji Castle doesn’t feel like it has anything to hide. It’s right out there in the open. You can see it from the station platform, actually. It says, “Yes, here I am. Come at me, tourist bros.” You walk up the main road past myriad arcades (seriously, the number of shopping and eating arcades in southern Japan is insane! Kitakami: what happened, man?) and along a nicely tree-lined sidewalk decorated here and there with the requisite naked statues. Dad was determined to point out every town’s collection of naked chicks.

He’s not wrong: there is a collection of sculptures by a particular artist who must have had some sort of fascination with the nubile female form. But finally, finally in Himeji, I found a naked man.

I sort of wish I hadn’t. Why do all the female statues look like Audrey Hepburn and the one guy is John Belushi playing the trumpet?

Anyway, when you finally cross the street and approach the outer gate of Himeji Castle, the scale hits you. The biggest part of the complex isn’t the castle itself, it’s actually the sprawling complex within the walls! From the outer moat, writhing with fat black koi, to the zoo at the back of the grounds and the botanical gardens just next door, it’s a huge property! It feels very palacey. With everyone milling around the large grassy area, it looked a bit like the National Mall…only a lot nicer, given the Mall’s current state.

The only thing that was missing from the general atmosphere were the royal garments and it would have been like stepping back in time. Unfortunately, the Main Keep is getting some major cosmetic surgery. Dad’s theory is that everything is getting a face lift in preparation for the 2020 Olympics.

For those planning on coming to Japan in the future, save yourself the hassle and come either the year before or after the Olympics when everything is newly restored and pristine!

Nevertheless, we were able to see a lot of the castle! The longest tour is self-guided and takes you through the long enclosed building just inside the main wall. Inside, as you pad around in your stocking feet, you can see the small arrow slits that were the elegant and discreetly bloody original home security system. You can walk into the small rooms that would have been apartments for retainers and lower-level guests.

One of my favorite things about Japan is the architecture. They have the same cookie-cutter homes today as we have in America: when real estate is at a premium, fast-built and easily maintained houses are just better economics. But way back when things like Himeji were being built, a lot of care and attention went into designing a building to be “organic.” With the close relationship that the Japanese retain with nature, they show that respect in the architecture. The wooden floorboards, worn soft and smooth by use, feel like silk on your feet. Your own body is dwarfed by the natural size and even the naturally curving shape of wooden beams and pillars! Tatami mats and washi screens give a softer more natural and soothing light to a room.

If I were to compare it, I’d say walking through this labyrinthine hall and its rooms was like being in the greatest and most comfortable treehouse in the world. And I wanted to live there!

Now, what nobody tells you about Himeji Castle is the resident princess, Princess Sen. And it’s a shame, really, because her life was a beautiful, melodramatic story of rescues, perseverance, love and loss. No, really!

Rescued from another castle, she married the prince of Himeji castle, Honda Tadamasa’s son. The prince and princess lived happily and had two children together. However, she lived apart from her own family. They were situated in the middle of feudal battlegrounds, so every day, the very devout princess prayed for them on a hill behind the castle complex.

Sadly, those first two children were her only ones. She miscarried several times and eventually the grief was too much for her and she shaved her head and went into a religious seclusion.

There’s also a fairly decent ghost story about Himeji. In a courtyard in the shadow of the Main Keep, there is an old well. Many years ago, a maidservant overheard an assassination plot against her master. Before she was able to deliver the message and save his life, she was found out and falsely accused of stealing a valuable plate. She was executed and thrown into the well. For a while, people swore they could hear her ghost counting money thrown into the water behind her.

Eventually, her body was removed and put to rest. So her spirit no longer counts in the dead of night, but still, visitors to the well throw in small offerings. Maybe they want to see if she’ll come back and count again.

Our next stop was next door at the botanical gardens. My family loves a good garden and Japan has many. The Himeji gardens have beautifully themed gardens within one large wall. There are moss gardens and water gardens, trees, bamboo, small springs and a beautiful tea houses. The most photographed part is a tea house that looks out on a fish pond with small waterfalls and some stone footbridges. Himeji peeks out through the tops of the pine trees in the background while the foreground is full of sparkling koi, orange, white, gold, calico and blue-black.

We walked through the gardens until we went through a gate and found ourselves facing two alleys. We took the left-most and immediately came across another gate leading directly to the cha-niwa, or tea house. It’s a discreet little building and quietly set aside from the rest of the world. This far into the gardens, you don’t even hear the traffic or people outside. 

We went inside and removed our shoes. For 500 yen, we were motioned through a series of low doorways and small tatami rooms. When we reached the back of the cha-niwa, there was a room about 4 ½ tatami mats large (the standard tea room size). Traditionally, old tea houses in their entirety were 4 ½ mats! Against the far wall was the beauty alcove with a long scroll of handwritten calligraphy. Against the adjacent wall, a woman was kneeling on the floor in full kimono, facing away from us, preparing tea for the guests already in the room. The room has two shoji screen walls that open onto a wrap-around porch, enclosed by sliding glass doors. Just beyond, a beautiful and simple garden with a few immaculate bushes and trees and nothing else.

 

I was trying to be sneaky with my camera so pardon the angle

Mom and I knelt on the floor. Because Dad is a manly man of manly manliness, he was offered a low chair to sit on.

Then, the tea ceremony began. I could hardly believe it. Last year, FK taught me the proper way to accept tea at a ceremony. But thus far, I hadn’t been lucky enough to actually experience a ceremony. And while this was a more casual, simplified version, I could barely contain myself, I was so excited!

First, an older woman in a pale green kimono served us each a small tea cake of mochi and white bean paste on a tiny plate. First, we used our tiny, two-tined “forks” to eat the mochi cake. Then, she returned with our chawan tea bowls.

When you think of English tea, images of fine china and delicate little cups with graceful handles come to mind. Japanese chawan are much larger, thicker, and they have no handles. They’re meant to be held in the palm of your hand and are designed with a pattern on one side. When you’re served the thick, foamy green tea, the pattern faces you. You pick the bowl up with your right hand and hold it in your left palm.

Then, with your right hand, you give it two quarter turns until the pattern faces away. Then you drink in just a couple large sips. Don’t sit there and try to sniff out “notes” or admire the froth. Tea ceremony is about the ceremony, not the tea…though the tea has a grassy deliciousness to it.

 

Once you drain your tea, turn the pattern back to you and place it on the tatami mat and say “thank you” to the host.

I was just so happy to briefly be in another world where women in pale green summer kimono float around on tatami while guests look out the window at the little garden in admiration.